Dance with the Devil
by Polkadottedgiraffe11
Summary: Annalisa Morgan, daughter of the powerful CEO of Morgan Enterprise; all her life had been meticulously planned & controlled to groom her into a well-respected woman of society. One wrong deal & it would send her into the path of Consulting Criminal, Jim Moriarty. The dance with the devil would begin. But, perhaps there, she'd find a freedom she'd never had before. Moriarty/OC
1. Prologue

Prologue

_James Moriarty was not a man to believe in true love or love at all; his heart had been burned out of him long ago, if he had ever had one to begin with._

_He supposed he must have had a heart, at some point at least, he had parents after all; but his childhood had quickly been washed away by blood and flames, all narrowing down to the point he was at now._

_His father, that **monster**, deserved it, but not his mother; his mother who loved him unconditionally, who had always protected him, and who was gentled, kind-hearted, and soft spoken sort of person, no matter how heavy handed and despicable his father had been._

_Well, look who was laughing now?_

_In the ashes of his childhood, little Jimmy boy was long gone… And in his place, James Moriarty, Consulting Criminal, was born…_


	2. The Arrangement

No One's POV

Jim Moriarty was not a man without morals, albeit, skewed morals, but morals nonetheless. He was a criminal, a criminal mastermind, but even criminals had honor of some sort.

For Jim, he despised men who used or abused women as if they were nothing more than cattle or mere objects; Jim did his best to avoid those type of people or not to do business with any criminals who dealt in slave trade.

Crime boss, Anthony Hayes, was leader of one of the largest and most powerful English mobs in the United Kingdoms; now one would think Italy would hold the title for the most power and prominence, and it did, but England was surprisingly influential as well and gaining more by the day… That was all due to one certain person… James Moriarty, Criminal Master Mind and Criminal Consultant… _Guilty_.

Anthony was a pompous, arrogant, and a brute of a fellow overall; Jim didn't particularly _like_ him, but he didn't like _anyone_ except perhaps for Sebastian, his right hand man.

Anthony, however, was an associate of sorts, and Jim owed him a favor… In a way.

"Boss." Sebastian tells his boss.

"What, Seb? What do my people want, _now?_" Jim questions, spinning around in his desk chair.

"Anthony wants that favor… He's looking into expanding his reach." Sebastian informs Jim.

"Hmm." Jim nods. "I see. Well, let's see here… Looking to take over Torres' territory? Maybe-"

"He already knows where he'd like to expand." Sebastian interrupts his boss' ramblings.

"Then why are we having this conversation? Anthony has never needed my help before. He's perfectly adept at taking over other boss' territories without my assistance." Jim questions, clearly a bit annoyed at this pointless conversation; ordinary people were so dull, so tedious, and unimaginative.

"He'd like to expand into more… Lucrative businesses. Morgan Enterprises." Sebastian answers.

"I see." Jim answers, tapping his fingers on his desk. "Well, I suppose… I suppose I can look into this. And by this… I mean you. If he's got his eyes set on this course. Whatever. Look into it, Sebastian. See what we can do for our dear _friend_… I have other business." Jim snaps his fingers at Sebastian.

"On it, Boss." Sebastian nods, realizing it was not the time to push Jim, he was clearly in one of his moods.

**_Because my plot bunnies won't leave me alone..._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	3. Unpleasant Conversations

No One's POV

"What about him?" Guinevere ask her friend, Annalisa, and technically her boss; had it been a different time, Guinevere would have been a lady-in-waiting for Annalisa, who was daughter of a wealthy, important man in England.

"Son of a crime lord, I'm rather certain." Annalisa replies with a giggle; though Guinevere had worked for her since Annalisa was a teenager, they were rather close, like sisters and best friends.

Annalisa was quite alone, her father, Richard Morgan, CEO to Morgan Enterprises a stern, heavy-handed, unyielding, and demanding man, who had always demanded immediate and absolute obedience, and exerted his control over everything.

All her life had been planned for her, and she been controlled and conformed into what her father had wished, even now when she was miles away from her mother and father; she and Guinevere had devised a plan to escape some of her father's suffocating control, at least for the first few years of university.

Guinevere had taken to attending some of her prerequisite classes for Business, while she had attended her prerequisites for Aeronautics, the degree she was truly interested in; teachers hadn't known the difference, it wasn't like they knew who she was when she arrived at the university, and she had no roommate other than Guinevere, her father had made sure of that, his controlling tendencies could have some benefit she supposed.

Now, she was in her first year of her MBA, with a Bachelor's in Business and Aeronautics Engineering.

A ring of her cell phone interrupts her and Guinevere's laughing.

"_Father_." Annalisa greets politely.

"Annalisa. I have sent the jet to collect you this Wednesday at noon." Her father informs.

"What? Why?"

"Don't question me, Annalisa. It is time you start taking responsibilities instead of fooling around in America and pursuing frivolous studies." Her father lectures, never mind that it was _his_ idea in the first place, and he all but demanded that she study business and _only_ business because he didn't want a _stupid_ child. "A woman of your station should not be throwing herself about, but dedicating herself to becoming a woman of the house and home."

"My _station!?_ You cannot be _serious_, Father!?"

"Don't use that tone with me. You are very lucky I have found a man who wishes to marry you despite your many faults."

"_Marriage!?_" Annalisa demands. "You're kidding me!? This isn't the Dark Ages anymore."

"Now, listen here. You _will_ come home and you _will_ marry him. Or you won't like the consequences, Annalisa." Richard threatens.

"Have a good day, Father." Annalisa hangs up on her father, her tone and form stiff and tense.

"Skip? Ice cream and movies?" Guinevere suggests, worriedly looking at her friend and picking up on the rather unpleasant conversation Annalisa had clearly had on the phone with her father.

"God, yes."

**_Lily James as Annalisa_**

**_Angel Coulby as Guinevere_**


	4. Revelations

No One's POV

Jim sat around with Anthony and a few of his close cronies casually sipping from a glass of whiskey in a crystal tumbler.

"You know, I couldn't have done it without you, Mr. Moriarty, sir." Anthony says, smoking on a cigarette and holding his own glass of whiskey. "So, a toast to you." He holds up his glass. "And, to a new future and my future bride…"

"Bride?" Jim comments as he toasts politely, taking a small sip, not one for heavy drinking, rather out of social necessity; honestly, these men were such _ruffians_ and vulgar morons it made him want to shoot everyone just because he _could_.

"Oh yes… She's such a lady. Refined as it is. Richard Morgan's daughter. She'll be so nice to…. Break." Anthony laughs crassly, rather inebriated by now; if he hadn't been, perhaps he would have noticed the predatory glint in Moriarty's gaze and the edge of danger that hinted in the Consulting Criminal's form.

Jim silently clenches his hand around his crystal glass, waving Sebastian over, Sebastian already knowing what his boss was going to ask before he was and hoping that Moriarty wouldn't dump his body in the Thames over this; Sebastian knew his boss' stance on such matters, he had made it quite clear in the past.

"A _girl_, Seb? _Not_ part of the deal." Jim hiss in a low growl.

"Another round of drinks… For my impending nuptials." Anthony cheers drunkenly.

Jim rolls his eyes silently before grabbing his jacket to leave; where was the class? Obviously _long_ since gone.

The computer screen and the file on display glared back at Jim as the Consulting Criminal read over it and evaluated the information presented to him, the low light in his office irritating him for no particular reason, and the quietness of the late night descending on Jim's large mansion as he settled in for the night to work on business and nurse a cup of tea; after all, he may be a Consulting Criminal, but he was British.

**_Richard Morgan_**

_CEO of Morgan Enterprise_

_DOB: March 26, 1959_

_Married: Elena Thompson in 1980_

_Daughter, Annalisa Callista Morgan, born May 17, 1987 at Wellington Hospital Central._

_Residence: 345 SE 900 St. Weybridge, England 98623-886_

_Several speculations of domestic abuse due to hospitalizations; no official files or claims._

Jim shoved himself away from the desk, unable to finish reading the file Sebastian had compiled, the file still seeming to glare at him as it remained open on the computer screen.

"Sebastian! What is _this!?_" Jim demands, slamming his hand down on his desk and pointing to the file he had open.

"The file on Richard Morgan… For the deal Anthony asked us to help pave the way for, Boss." Sebastian answers, unsure exactly what his boss' mood was; one could never really be one hundred percent certain.

"I do _not_ sell girls! How many times do I need to make myself _clear!?_ I do not deal in the slave trade. Arranged marriage!? What _fool_ do you take me for?" Jim rants, an erratic, maniac look in his expression.

"The- the girl could have agreed, Boss…"

Jim goes silent for a moment, as if looking at Sebastian as if he was piecing him a part piece by piece.

"Seb, Seb, Seb…" Jim tsks, as if disappointed, shaking his head slightly. "What year is it now? I am a Criminal _Mastermind_…" Jim emphasizes, making hand gestures. "Far from where I have begun in my _humble_ beginnings… Yes, many things have stayed the same… But, many things have changed. I don't _deal_ in these things. _SO HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?_ We should be _beyond_ this!" Jim roars, clearly very upset and passionate about the subject.

"This is an _insult_ to me. Hayes is a brute. A tyrant. And he thinks he can pull one over on me?" Jim mutters. "What _right_ does he have? And after his last wife…"

"No, no, no… We're going to sort this out… I _CANNOT_ let this slide. Then what will everyone think?" Jim demands.

"Yes, Boss." Sebastian nods, having no other choice but to follow his boss out.

The look in the Consulting Criminal's eyes was near maniac when he burst into the large manor of Anthony Hayes, startling Anthony from his own work.

"Why _hello_ there!" Jim waves as if to hide the danger and mania hinting in his eyes, but it would be hard to miss, the Consulting Criminal prowled, his form lithe and dangerous, speaking of gun mental, blood, and predatory _power _and something inherently_ **deadly**_.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Well…" Jim stalks forward, his compact form now shifting beneath his Westwood suit. "I'm afraid, Hayes. I'm here to _personally_ inform you, the deal with Morgan Enterprise is terminated."

"You- you can't _do_ that!" He sputters, but the shake in his tone indicates he had some intellect to be afraid.

"I _OWN_ you, Hayes. I _MADE_ you." Jim yells, his teeth bared like a lion. "From the unimportant little crime boss you were… Scuttling among the rats… Suffocating among the leeches… So, you'll find, _I can_. I was doing this as a favor. For what you did for me. But, no one controls me. And, _no one_ can get one over on me. I find it absolutely _ridiculous,_ an insult, that you believed you could hide something from me." Jim slams his hand down on the desk.

"Your life is my favor. Be thankful for me sparing your life and my graceful _mercy_." Jim glares at Anthony, his face inches away from Hayes. "Perhaps next time, you'll think before you attempt to pull one over me… _I see **everything**_."


	5. Chance Meetings

No One's POV

"Anthony, Anthony, Anthony…" Jim whistles, strolling back into Anthony's mansion, this time Anthony hosting several of his fellow dons who worked under him. "I am _SO_ disappointed in you. When I give instructions. I expect them to be _FOLLOWED!_" His voice echoes in the silence of the large mansion as his voice inflects high.

"So now, you see… I have to destroy you!" Jim shrugs nonchalantly, hands in his pockets.

Anthony growls, puffing up arrogantly and taking a step forward, clearly intent on defending or challenging Jim; it could not be seen that he allowed someone to disrespect him, even if it was the well-known Consulting Criminal, Jim Moriarty, although most didn't know who he was by face, since it was rare that Jim dealt with things hands on, he left that to his own minions.

"Ah- ah… I wouldn't do that if I were you." Jim raises a finger as if chastising a naughty child, a cluster of red dots suddenly appearing on Hayes and his associates.

"I always come prepared. What can I say… It pays to be King." Jim grins, clearly not afraid of anything, trusting that his own minions could and would protect him, moreover, the Consulting Criminal himself was quite proficient at using a gun and hand to hand fighting.

"Now, about your impending demise." Jim grins wider.

"Why- why do you care?" Anthony manages to grit out, clearly pausing in his actions and thinking twice about acting against the Consulting Criminal.

"DON'T _QUESTION_ ME!" Jim yells, his fist and expression tightening.

To be truthful, Jim himself didn't know why he cared; at first glance Annalisa Callista Morgan was so _ordinary_. Jim didn't care for _ordinary_. In fact, it rather bored him to tears and he took pleasure in breaking a person or using them for his own personal gain or game.

But, at second glance, Annalisa was, beyond the obvious of strikingly beautiful, struck some sort of chord with the cold hearted, Machiavellian, Consulting Criminal, and that sort of attention may just be the downfall of them both; Jim was possessive and obsessive over whatever was his, he was a predator, leader and King of the pack, and Annalisa would be his Queen.

"Why- why are you doing this?" Anthony asks once again, lying in a pool of his own blood, his associate's bodies littered around him.

"What did I say about questioning me?" Jim growls, danger and fire dancing in his eyes as he steps towards Anthony, his gun still out, cooling from the bullets that had just been fired. "_BUT_…" Jim tsks, his voice lowering into a soft croon. "I suppose I can answer you now… Now that your life is _bleeding_ from your eyes…"

"Because Annalisa Morgan is **_mine_**…" Jim hisses, a dark glint in his expression that tells of his growing obsession with the Morgan Enterprise heir, as Jim steps on one of Hayes' wounds, making the crime boss scream in pain and agony. "And _no one_ takes what is **_mine_**."

Jim stepped over the many bodies that now littered the former crime boss' mansion, sweeping his hands down his suit to smooth down any wrinkles.

"Sebastian, have someone… Clean this mess up." Jim waves his hands at the mansion behind him. "I have… Business."

"On it, Boss." Sebastian offers, already falling into step with Jim, phone in hand to give orders.

Jim stepped out of a quaint coffee shop in Weybridge, cleaned up from the night before and it's grisly and distasteful sort of manner and atmosphere; Jim held a coffee cup in his hands, and in a rare occurrence, dressed in casual clothes rather than his typical Westwood suits.

Annalisa and Guinevere walked along the streets of downtown Weybridge, chatting and laughing between themselves, enjoying the rare day of sun as it began peeking through the morning cloud bank and enjoying the rare moment of freedom.

Having been back to Annalisa's hometown for only two days, Annalisa's father, Richard, had suddenly retracted his previous demands and Annalisa was allowed to return to the US to finish her schooling.

"_Oh!_" Annalisa's voice says with surprise as she bumps shoulders with someone, Jim purposely turning his own shoulder away from her in order to bump into her. "Excuse me- I'm so sorry."

"No, it's my fault… Really." Jim apologizes, laughing a little and smiling charmingly at Annalisa, making sure to make himself look as nonthreatening as possible.

Guinevere appraised the man who bumped into her friend, Annalisa; it certainly appeared to _be_ an accident and he appeared apologetic enough. But, stranger things _had_ happened in the past; Annalisa's father, despite his _long_ list of faults, was a prominent man and many men had attempted to get with Annalisa in hopes to gain social status or find an in with the company, leaving her friend only disappointed in the end.

Her friend had enough heart ache from her father and his cold hearted and rather violent and abusive ways, if Guinevere could prevent it from other men who didn't truly care, then she would.

"I'm so sorry… Let me help you or something." Annalisa offers, her hand immediately coming out as if to take his spilled coffee from his hand.

"It's fine, I'm fine. Don't worry." Jim offers, shaking coffee droplets off his hand.

"It must be hot."

"A little spilt coffee won't hurt me, Kitten." Jim replies, the nickname slipping from his mouth easily as he catches her eye.

"Annalisa." Annalisa introduces, a small blush appearing. "But people call me Lisa." Annalisa curls a piece of blonde hair behind her ear.

"James." Jim offers. "My names is James. It's lovely to meet you, Lisa. Perhaps you'd like to accompany to buy a new coffee?" He suggests, offering his arm to Annalisa like a gentleman, he was a criminal, not a heathen after all.

"I suppose it's the least I could do after spilling your coffee. This is Gwen by the way. My friend." Annalisa introduces.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." Jim offers his most charming smile, Annalisa's arm slipping through his own; like an unsuspecting rabbit in the eyes of a predator.


	6. Coffee Shop Romance

No One's POV

The cozy, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop was bustling with the after lunch crowd as Guinevere and Annalisa sat together, heads bent over one of Annalisa's textbooks while sipping coffee and enjoying the afternoon sun.

"_No_, Sebastian. I don't know how much clearer I need to be about this. Tell them it's _unacceptable_. UNACCEPTABLE." Moriarty tells Sebastian over the phone. "And tell them to come to the table with an offer that _doesn't_ make me want to blow my brains out or I walk…" He snaps, hanging up and pocketing his phone as he walks into the small coffee shop, the same shop Annalisa was at.

Not that Jim wasn't _well_ aware of that fact; he wasn't stalking her. No, _shut up_, Moran. He _wasn't_. He was simply **_concerned_**. After what happened with Anthony Hayes, Jim was slightly… _Paranoid_ about her father making some sort of underhanded deal that would hand Annalisa off to the next highest bidder, even _if_ Jim himself had gone to break- _threaten_, the elder Morgan himself.

Yes, _concerned_, that was the word. Concerned enough to fly all the way from England for a somewhat frivolous business deal that was even below Sebastian to deal with; the voice inside his head sounded suspiciously like Moran, nagged at Jim's mind. _Shut up_, Moran.

"May I sit here?" Jim asks, holding his cup of coffee, more for lack of something to do with his hands, his feet stopping just inside Annalisa's line of vision.

"I'm sorry, we're-" Annalisa apologizes. "Oh, James-" Her voice obviously is surprised to see him.

"James Moriarty… From England… Hi." Jim finishes and smiles at Annalisa.

"I- umm, what are you doing here? I mean- it's nice to see you, James." Annalisa says, putting her pen down and curling a piece of hair behind her ear to see better.

"It's nice to see you too, Annalisa. And you, Gwen." Jim replies more as an afterthought, ordinary people were so _rarely_ something he paid attention to. "I'm in America for business." He answers, so technically speaking that wasn't a _lie_.

"Oh, I see. Do you travel a lot?"

"I do. My job keeps me busy. And I travel all around. Here and there." Jim replies noncommittally.

"Sounds a bit nefarious." Annalisa giggles.

"Oh, nothing of the sort. I invest in startup companies. I occasionally have to oversee them." Jim lies easily; that clearly a _complete_ and utter lie, although, to be fair, perhaps a prettily wrapped up lie. He did invest in businesses… Businesses of the unsavory and immoral sort. His Little Kitten wasn't too far off the mark after all.

"Now, enough about me… What are you working on?" Jim offers, leaning in.

"Oh…" Annalisa looks shy all of a sudden. "Nothing- nothing that interesting." She continues, feeling self-conscious that she was still in school while James was not; it was clear that James was older, perhaps not that much older, but older, and maybe she was reading too much into their brief and short interactions, but he seemed interested in her, although she couldn't fathom why.

"I'm sure that's not true, Kitten. I'm sure whatever you're working on is _all_ sorts of fascinating." Jim coaxes.

"It's really not." Annalisa offers modestly. "Just studying… For finals. After this semester, I only have one left until I graduate."

"Quite the studious one, aren't you?"

"She is." Guinevere interrupts. "She has a double major. And she's finishing her MBA." Guinevere didn't exactly like James, or rather, she had this sort of _off_ feeling about him; but never let it be said she didn't like to brag about her best friend and her achievements.

"I like learning." Annalisa replies.

"She's a nerd." Guinevere teases.

"So are _you!_" Annalisa protests with a laugh and eye roll.

"Well, I happen to like intelligent women." Jim flirts with Annalisa, his gaze catching hers a little, flicking away as if he was uncertain on what her reaction would be; it was a game of cat and mouse, the coy little looks and suggestive flirtations, like the days of high school and hormones where everything was uncertain, hesitant, and messy, an elaborate dance to attract a partner.

"To be honest, Kitten…" Jim tells Annalisa, slightly bolder, more confident at the sight of a slight blush that hints at her cheeks. "I was hoping I would see you again. Despite the odds against it… I quite enjoyed our last conversation and encounter. And, I was hoping- hoping that you might agree to go out with me… On a date."

Annalisa is taken aback by the outspokenness of Jim's statement, moreover, Gwen clearly giving her some sort of look from across the table; it was the _look_ that all girl's knew, practically written into both the best friend and the Girl Code, yes, with a capital 'g', which mean 'hell no' or 'you better fucking not', the abort mission look that told Annalisa to think before speaking.

"I- umm… That's very flattering, James. Really, I'm very flattered. But- but I'm really busy right now." Annalisa answers. "With school. Studying and finals. I'm not sure- it's just not a very good idea." She replies, her tone soft and apologetic.

Jim fought to remain calm and unthreatening, he wasn't used to not getting his way, furthermore not use to any form of _rejection_.

"Right, well…. Lis' we should go…" Guinevere interjects, intervening for her best friend. "Like she said… Lots of studying to be done. Nice to see you… Again… James." Guinevere gives a fake smile to him before helping her friend to gather her things and all but drags Annalisa out the door.


	7. The Language of Flowers

No One's POV

"Sebastian, I need you to deliver flowers for me." Jim tells his right-hand man, sitting at his desk in his New York penthouse.

"_Flowers?_" Sebastian questions. "Since when am I your carrier pigeon?" Sebastian looks at his boss with a raised brow.

"Since I said so, Sebastian." Jim glares. "I pay you, so you're _whatever_ the bloody hell I _say_ you are." Jim threatens. "And, if I say deliver some flowers, it means delivers some _damn_ flowers!" Jim raises his voice.

"Okay, okay. No need to get _snappy_… Sorry, boss." Sebastian raises his hands innocently. "Who they for?" Sebastian questions, although he can already guess.

"Annalisa."

"Of course."

"What's that _supposed_ to mean?" Jim looks defensive, as if taking offense to Moran's words as if they were a slight against Annalisa.

"Nothing." Sebastian offers mildly, it clear his boss was in a _mood_.

"It _better_ be." Jim snaps again, waving his gun at Sebastian; honestly, there _wasn't_ a week that he _didn't_ threaten to shoot Sebastian.

"Now get going… I want a full report when you get back." Jim orders. "And don't touch or look at her!"

Sebastian waves off his boss, clearly questioning his _own_ sanity at the moment; how the hell was he supposed to deliver flowers to her, _drop_ them on the bloody ground? Blind fold himself?

The doorbell of the quaint, two-story house rang, Sebastian waiting with a bouquet of orange roses in his arms, covering his face from view; sometimes he really _hated_ his job.

"Umm… Hello?"

"Delivery… For Ms. Morgan." Sebastian says, attempting not to sigh at the tediousness of this charade, right down to his cheesy hat on his head.

"Yes. That's me."

"If you could just sign this for me, please." Sebastian offers a clip board to his boss' current _obsession_. "I have more flowers to bring from the car.

"More?" Her voice is clearly surprised.

"A dozen." Sebastian answers; his boss clearly had lost it, as far as Sebastian knew, she had turned him down, so why was he ordering a dozen bouquets of flowers?

"Oh." Annalisa's voice gasped, she seemed pleased and surprised.

"Can I?" Sebastian asks, clearly indicating that he wished to be let in to put the first bunch of flowers down.

"Oh, yes. Umm… Bring them in, I guess. You can set them here." She offers, guiding him into the foyer, clearly hesitant to let him in her house; if only she knew half of it.

"Can you- can you tell me who these are from?" Her soft voice asks as he walks into the cozy foyer.

"Order was placed by a Mr. James Moriarty. That's all I know, miss."

"What's all the-" Guinevere asks, walking down the stairs.

"James sent me flowers." Annalisa states almost unnecessarily, as it was already obvious by the flowers that were rapidly filling the front entry.

Sebastian manages to get a glimpse of the dark skinned girl his boss had described, the current best friend and employee of Annalisa, also who his boss wanted him to- for lack of words, wanted him to try and date, in attempts to ease the way for Jim to date Annalisa; as if this _wasn't_ turning into a romantic comedy already.

"This is the last of them. Have a good day." Sebastian offers, making a quick escape for the front, he didn't want to try his chances of his boss strangling him for some slight he had accidentally made.

"Thank you." Annalisa follows him to the door to shut it behind him.

"Tell me you think this is at least a _little_ creepy?" Guinevere's voice questions her best friend. "I mean, come on, you didn't tell him where you went to school… Or lived…"

"Maybe a little… But also a little sweet. I mean, think about all the work he had to do to find me. Also, it's not like it was that hard… We were studying close to campus. And I had my textbooks out." Annalisa offers, picking up the small card stuck in one of the flower bouquets.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"And I appreciate that, Gwen." Annalisa smiles at her best friend.

Sebastian drives away in the fake flower delivery car, having pretended to pack up the back while listening in to the conversation with long-range audio equipment in the back.

"Sebastian, is it done?"

**_Come on, guys... Reviews are appreciated! I've been getting like, zero lately. It's super discouraging as a writer._**

**_At this point, I'm not sure if it's because I'm no longer writing the type of stories in a genre you enjoy (since I switched into Sherlock) or because you genuinely aren't reading my stories anymore... But, I would really appreciate the feedback._**

**_If it is constructive, I would appreciate that too. Although "your writing sucks" is not constructive. So, let's keep it kind. But, if I can improve. I will always try!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	8. One Chance

No One's POV

Jim had been called many things in his life, and equally so, was known for many things; among those things was his penance for not sharing what he had deemed as undeniably and irrevocably **_his_**.

And, Annalisa Callista Morgan was **_his_**. Even if she didn't know it; he hadn't killed Anthony Hayes for nothing nor threatened Annalisa's father, after all.

Like a spider that wove its intricate web, a dragon that horded its gold, a panther that stalked its prey, or a snake that poised to attack, Jim Moriarty was a _dangerous_ man to cross.

Annalisa walked out of the small diner with her friends, the group laughing and chatting about the movie they had just seen, and the evening chill beginning to finally set in; it was January, after all, and finals had just finished for all of them.

"Annalisa?" Jim's familiar voice catches Annalisa before she turns down the street with her friends, the Irishman putting the correct amount of surprise in his voice.

"J- James?" Annalisa questions, her brow furrowing a little in confusion before catching sight of the familiar figure crossing under the bright street light.

"Did you received my flowers?" Jim questions, looking at Annalisa before looking down in what would seem like a bashful gesture.

"I did. They were very beautiful. Thank you. The peach were my favorite." Annalisa answers, fiddling with her glove.

"It wasn't- too bold? I was hoping you would like them…" Jim trails off. "I would- I still very much would like to take you out on a date, Annalisa." Jim speaks again, looking up at her from under his eyelashes.

"It was sweet." Annalisa smiles. "But I- I wasn't lying the first time, James. The thing I said about studying. About finishing school."

Not lying, no, Jim could tell that, he wasn't a Consulting Criminal for no reason; but not giving him the entire truth either. It made him want to murder a few dozen people and then maybe scream and throw himself out a window. Or, better yet, throw _someone_ else out a window in his anger and frustration.

What was he _missing?_ What did everyone else have that apparently _he_ didn't? Was he a leper? Did he wear some sort of scarlet letter or mark?

"And I wasn't lying either when I said I liked an intelligent, studious woman. Didn't you know? Smart is the new sexy." Jim smirks slightly, just a slight glimmer of his true self, after all, he would never want to frighten Annalisa; no, _never_ Annalisa, she was his Little Kitten, his Queen, and she was too fragile, too innocent to hurt or frighten. "So, what do you say, hmm, Kitten? Just one, small, _tiny_ chance? What's the harm?" Jim coaxes, voice low and soothing, like a lullaby that's meant to calm a child as he offers his arm to her.

"Well…" Annalisa waivers, looking back at her friends that clustered down the street from her, waiting for her to finish her conversation.

"I apologize… I was interrupting your-" Jim apologizes, putting the correct amount of contrite chagrin in his tone. "Date…" Although he much rather saw of his own arm or put a bullet in his own head then admit that Annalisa was on a date with another male; she was **_his_**. If he couldn't have her, no one else could either.

"Not a date. Just friends. And it's fine. Really. All fine." Annalisa rushes to offer. "We're just celebrating being finished with our finals." She offers, now somewhat more modest, conscious of the fact that it may seem less exciting in comparison.

"Ah, well, congratulations, Kitten. May I take you out for a celebratory drink, then? It's something to be quite proud of."

"I'm not much of a drinker…" Annalisa answers; a product of her father and her own upbringing under her father's harsh hand. "And I just got dinner. But, I know of a nice café. Coffees and desserts. What were you doing? I don't want to delay your night. Surely you were out doing something." She suggests.

"I was looking for a bookstore… The directions I was given said it was around here somewhere." Jim replies smoothly, and technically, it _wasn't_ a lie; he had been looking for a bookstore, it was more of a convenient coincidence, one he had masterfully crafted.

"Oh, I can help. Which one? I spend far too much time in bookstores… Studying and all." Annalisa questions.

"Fics and Books." Jim answers, a quirky name for a small hole-in-the-wall store, one which he knew Annalisa often visited.

"Well, you happen to be in luck. I love that store and I go there all the time. I know exactly where that is. I can show you."

"Are you sure, Kitten? I wouldn't want to intrude on your celebrations." Jim offers; now that was a dirty little lie, **_yes_**, he would.

"It's not a problem."

"Then lead the way." Jim offers his arm, and like that, the panther pounced.


End file.
